


"In my defence, there was Acid involved."

by lia_bezdomny



Series: The Squirrel and his Goldfish. [5]
Category: Mystrade - Fandom, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Fluff, Greg is in charge, M/M, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Mystrade is everything, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:17:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7595878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lia_bezdomny/pseuds/lia_bezdomny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg and Mycroft are out on a date. When Mycroft suddenly urges him to go to the bathroom together, he expects some fun and not a game of hide and seek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"In my defence, there was Acid involved."

“So, how was Tunisia?”

Greg knows that Mycroft is not allowed to disclose anything about his two weeks trip. The fact that he was made aware of Mycroft's destination at all, showed the latter’s trust and somewhat,

his commitment to their relationship. Or that was at least, what Greg is imagining, when he is alone and feeling sappy.

 

“Hot. Exhausting. Fruitless.” “My, my, you are chatty tonight, Mr. Holmes.” That was actually true. He usually got only a one word response.

“I've been told many times, that my conversation skills are quite enthralling, my dear inspector.”

“Oh really? I think, after 14 days, I need to have my memory refreshed. Thoroughly.” Mycroft grins, that sly smile he loves more than he wants to admit, and lightly strokes his thumb over Greg's knuckles.

 

“Before or after dinner?” “Seriously Mycroft, don't you know me at all? Of course after. Rule number two.” “You, and your rules.” The grin doesn't disappear though.

“I reckon you love the third one, so stop complaining.” “I would never dream of… Gregory, kindly accompany me to the bathroom, please.” That was not smooth or flirty at all, which caught him off guard.

 

“Mycroft?”

Before he can put up any resistance, he is yanked up to his feet and dragged to the other side of the restaurant. Well, maybe this time, dinner could wait.

They make it to the bathroom, without tripping over wait-staff or themselves and Greg is a little intrigued by all of this. But instead of ravishing him against the sink like he imagined it,

Mycroft quickly locks the door and presses his back against it.

 

“I slowly get the impression that you do not know how a quick bathroom hook-up works.” “Be quiet, Gregory.” Then, there is a slight knock on the door and they hear a muffled conversation:

 _“Are you sure it was him?” “Of course, it was. I know how my son looks like.”_  

“Mycroft, are we hiding from your _parents_?”

***

“We have to go out there.” “No, we don't.”

He is still a little pissed off about the stupid game of hide and seek. And also, Greg has the dull feeling, that this would be one of those foodless dates with Mycroft.

He should have stopped to get a Snickers bar or some string cheese.

 

“Mycroft.” “I don't see why that would be necessary.” He pouts, a thing he does, when he knows that Greg is right, but doesn't want to admit it.

“Because we are hiding in the bathroom of a restaurant...” Now the knock is louder and Mycroft stills.

“Mycroft, open up, _immediately_!” “… And they have clearly seen us running in.”

“I didn't run.” “We are not discussing semantics right now. It had to happen sooner or later.”

“I still don't think this is the right moment to...” “Mycroft!” This time, Greg and the voice on the other side of the door call out his name in synch. So he submits to his fate an opens.

 

“Hello, Mother.” Mrs. Holmes' stern look focuses on her son.

“Have you been smoking again?” He rolls his eyes.

“Mother, please.” “Don't _mother please_ me. You know how I feel about that dirty habit.”

“No, I did not smoke. Happy now?” “I will be, as soon as you remember your manners and introduce me to that gentleman over there.”

“Hello, Mrs. Holmes. I am Greg Lestrade.” She takes his hand and smiles.

“Hello, Greg. Why don't you and Mycroft join us for dinner? I feel like we have a lot to talk about. Dear, please tell the waiter to get us a table for four, yes?” The reigning Mr. Holmes nods and walks back into the dining room.

 

“So, Greg. What do you do?” Mr. Holmes senior fills both his and Mycroft's glasses with wine, after a quick introduction.

“I am an inspector with Scotland Yard.” “Scotland Yard, how exciting.” Mrs. Holmes actually sounds interested.

“Yes, truly riveting.” “Mikey, behave. You were saying, Greg?” Greg has to stifle a laughter, when he sees Mycroft's sour face and continues.

 

“There is not much more to say. I've been at the Yard for a few years now, and have been working with Sherlock for three.” “And that's how you met Mycroft?”

The way, Mycroft grabs his wine glass, reminds Greg of their first night together. Well, not the night itself, that is still torched from his memory, but the morning after. He's afraid, the stem will break any second.

“Can we stop this interrogation now, mother?” “Mycroft, I'm not interrogating, I'm having a nice conversation with your boyfriend. And if I seem to be a bit nosey, it is solely because you've been hiding him from us for the

last three years, and literally tonight.”

 

“ _Boy…_ _Friend_?” Mycroft's eyes are comically wide now.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Do you prefer partners?” “No. I prefer you'd change the subject.” His mother doesn't let it go, of course. Another thing that runs in the Holmes family apparently.

“Mycroft, you know we love you and never had a problem with your orientation. If you are happy, we are happy.” Mycroft's presses his lips together and puts the glass down.

“I'm leaving now.” “Son!” His parents stare at him and then back at Greg, who slowly finishes his wine.

 

“Are you not going to follow him?”

“No, Mrs. Holmes. He's outside, sulking and waiting for me to vent. Not because he doesn't love you or out of shame.

Just because something happened that was out of his control. I'm pretty sure he had a chart made up on how to introduce me. What am I saying, of course there is a chart, it's Mycroft.” That makes the Holmes' laugh.

“Look at that, my dear. He does have the ability to change.” “I wouldn't call switching from Venn-Diagrams to charts that much of a change.” Mrs. Holmes pats Greg's hand as he finally gets up.

“I hope to see you again soon, Greg.” “I'd like that, Mrs. Holmes. Good night and enjoy your dinner.”

*** 

“Hello there.” Greg sits down next to Mycroft on the bench and quickly notices the seven stomped out cigarettes to his feet.

“Don't start.” “I wasn't going to. Can I have one?” He hands him the packet and they are silent for a few moments.

“You took your time.” “I thought I'd give you a few minutes to calm down. Process the events and then present me with your findings.” Mycroft puts his face in his hands and groans.

“They are infuriating.” “Most parents are.”

“I didn't want them to meet you before I could… brief them.” “Naturally.”

“Are you mocking me?” There was the adorable nose scrunch again and Greg has to summon all of his inner strength, to keep himself from tapping it with his finger and say “boop”.

 

“No, I understand what happened in there. Probably more than you do.” He knows he has to elaborate.

“Mycroft, you are a control freak. Of course you want everything to be perfect. But to be honest, this was the best case scenario for me.

They saw you freak out, the witnessed me dealing with it and I didn't drool all over the table. Given my history with meeting the In-Laws, that is a total success.”

 

“You drooled over a table?” Finally Mycroft chuckles, at least for a few seconds. That's at least something. 

“In my defence, there was Acid involved. Also, that is not the point. They like me, I like them. And now you can stop worrying about first impressions and focus on the important things:

The safety of England for example. Or getting your boyfriend something to eat. Come to think of it, this is your priority.” Mycroft shakes his head and then kisses the inspector sweetly.

“I will get you all the kebabs you can eat if you promise to never use the term boyfriend again. We are not teenagers.” “Deal. Now go on, feed the love of your life.”

"Gregory, stop it." "Fine. Your soulmate."

 


End file.
